In silence, I watched the old world come down piece by piece.
My timer kept ticking in the corner of my vision. I ignored it.
Banners were torn from the marble, gold-threaded cloth fluttering to the ground like slow snow. One guard, young and shaking, raised his sword to carve through his own insignia. I caught his wrist mid-motion.
“Stop.” My tone came out softer than I expected. “I just wanted to see if you’d actually do it.”
He froze, eyes wide. I smiled at him, tired but genuine. “Just put the ugly banners down, alright? No need to strip for loyalty points.”
The poor guy nodded, red-faced, and practically tripped over himself to obey.
I turned toward Dhriti, who was standing at the base of the Grand Hall’s steps, her armor now dusted in fallen fabric. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” I said, letting the frustration bleed into my voice.
Dhriti flinched, but didn’t back down. Her spine straightened, defiance in her eyes. “I—” She glanced sideways, guilty, then met my gaze again. “Queen, I couldn’t just stay still! After your speech? I had to gather your new followers and do something!”
Of course, she… had to. I sighed and rubbed my temple. “And doing something involved hijacking a temple, huh?”
That’s when the custodian finally worked up the courage to step closer with his hands clasped in a way that said diplomatically terrified. “You can’t desecrate the temple,” he said, tone carefully polite. “It is sacred to the Grandmasters—”
“Queen’s a real goddess!” Dhriti snapped before I could stop her. She marched right up the stairs, eyes blazing. “And she’s the new Grandmaster. Or do you want to say she isn’t?”
The custodian paled as if I’d pulled a sword on him.
“Whoa, whoa—” I slid between them, hands raised. “No need to desecrate anything, okay? Let’s maybe not start a holy war five minutes after the last one ended.”
Dhriti twisted toward me, and the look she gave made my stomach drop. Reverent. Unsettling as hell. “As your temple guardian,” she said, voice trembling with fervor, “it’s my duty to protect your temples. And this one is empty. No actual god.”
“We have holy relics,” the custodian interrupted quickly, as if reciting from a script. “Dating back to the Grandmaster of the White Dragon, who banished the Sun Fox itself. We have her tail preserved here.” His tone softened, pride flickering for a moment. “Every noble house keeps its relics in this temple. It is—”
“—not anymore,” Lola cut in crisply, clapping her hands once. Her boots echoed on the marble as she strode past us, clipboard already glowing with new entries. “Regime change, effective immediately. Altandai is now an elven county under Rimebreak administration. Welcome to the new paperwork, everyone.”
The custodian blinked at her, then at me, as if trying to decide which of us was more likely to smite him. “Don’t look at me,” I said, shrugging. “I’m allergic to documents.”
I turned toward Mathéo, then toward the sea of faces filling the square. The chaos, the disbelief, the thin thread of hope tying it all together. I could feel the mana still thrumming inside me like static under skin. The smart thing would’ve been to rest.
Naturally, I decided to climb higher instead.
I summoned a column of ice beneath my feet, rising above the crowd until the city stretched out beneath me — rooftops glinting, banners half-torn but already being replaced with new colors.
Might as well milk the queen aesthetic while it lasts, right?
I activated the ring and… shouted real loud. “Thank you,” I said, my voice echoing off the marble walls. “For being brave enough to join me!”
A ripple ran through the crowd; quiet at first, then a cheer breaking loose from somewhere in the middle. I let the moment breathe, then continued.
“We’ll build a new city together… under Rimebreak’s banner!” My heart hammered, my words riding on the same strange electricity I always got before something stupidly important. “And for that, I need everyone’s help. Even yours!”
That actually got a laugh. I wasn’t sure if it was nerves or hope, but I’d take it.
“So, let’s celebrate the demise of masters together,” I said, lifting my arm, frost flaring from my fingers. “And then we’ll make damn sure we’re never enslaved again!”
The noise that followed wasn’t polite applause… it was roaring. The kind that shakes the chest, that feels real. “Commander Mathéo will know more,” I added, glancing down at him, “so… for new Altandai! For Rimebreak!”
The chant picked up faster than I expected; voices rising, echoing, the name Rimebreak bouncing off every stone in the square.
I jumped down from the pillar, landing light on the frost that bloomed under my heels. The sound hit me like a wave—the clapping, the shouting, the sheer volume of it. Mathéo stood near the front, his face in resigned panic.
“I’ve got no idea what to do?” he said, tone hovering uncertainly between question and statement.
I grinned at him, clapping him on the shoulder. “That’s fine. Lola does. She’ll keep you posted.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Lola sigh, deep, soul-weary sigh that said she was already recalculating her paperwork estimates.
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“Now, let’s get this sorted,” I said, turning to the custodian, Lola, and Dhriti. We stepped inside together, the roar of the square dimming behind us like someone had just turned the world’s volume knob to sanctuary mode.
“Can priests come with us?” Dhriti asked, motioning toward the small procession of blue-robed figures standing in formation.
Priests.
Mine… priests?
Oh no. I already felt the migraine loading like a cursed status effect.
What would even be my commandments?
“Exploit until you can’t?”
“Whiskey is sacred?”
Or maybe just, “Uh… be good?”
Yeah, divine wisdom right there. Really top-shelf theology.
I shook my head, trying to exorcise the thought before Yuki turned it into canon, and nodded toward the guards to let the priests through.
The guards bowed low as we passed, and I tried to look like that was totally normal and not mildly horrifying.
The moment we crossed the threshold, the air changed; warm, thick with incense. The first room—antechamber, yeah, that’s the word—was pretty big. From here, three hallways split off: straight ahead, left, and right.
As always with Grandmasters, subtlety had died early in the design process.
The place was marble and gold from floor to ceiling, the kind of opulence that made you want to check your shoes for dirt before stepping in. Frescoes lined the vaulted walls, each one showing a Grandmaster doing something heroic and smug; slaying monsters, giving blessings, generally looking like they’d never paid taxes.
And at the far end, looming above everything, was a mural of the White Grandmaster… the first of them. He stared down at us with eyes so detailed it felt like he might blink at any second.
Because nothing says welcome like a 40-foot man judging your life choices.
The custodian bowed so deeply I thought he might sprain a vertebra. “Queen Charlie,” he said, voice trembling. “To the right is the trophy—”
Dhriti cut him off with the enthusiasm of a kid spotting free dessert. “Priests! That way!” She pointed dramatically toward the right hall. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this!”
She was practically glowing. Great. Dhriti got into plunder mode. “Old man,” she declared to the custodian, “starting now, this is Queen Charlie’s Temple!”
The poor man inhaled quickly, probably reconsidering his entire career. Before he could start crying, I reached over and grabbed Dhriti’s pauldron, yanking her back. She stumbled, armor clanking, and almost face-planted, but I caught her.
“Dhriti,” I said through clenched teeth, “we’re not disrespecting what was here.” She froze, blinking like a scolded golden retriever. “Yes, I’m a queen,” I continued, “and, sure, kinda a goddess—”
That was apparently the wrong thing to say.
Every priest in the room dropped as if they’d been sniped by revelation.
Damn, have I put that weird power/divinity into it? I didn’t mean to!
Even the custodian hit the floor, trembling. Only Lola glanced around confused, and Dhriti stayed standing; smug, glowing, and already having the smug of told you so.
“So, no,” I said firmly, glaring at her. “We’re not destroying anything.”
Dhriti tilted her head. “But… they were evil?” she asked, as if morality was a checkbox you could tick and justify looting.
“Lola,” I said, pointing a hand her way before my blood pressure could rise any further, “carefully catalogue everything and put it in the Royal Treasury. I’ll decide what to do with it later. That goes for everything.”
Lola nodded immediately. “Already was on the agenda,” she said, smiling as she ticked something off her clipboard.
My stomach dropped. “How many things are on that clipboard?” I whispered.
She didn’t even look up. “Yes.”
Perfect. Bureaucratic horror confirmed.
I released Dhriti, rubbing my temples. “Anyway, everyone, be respectful. No barbarian behavior.”
I caught one priest watching me, eyes wide and glassy, the reverence that could curdle into mythology if left unchecked. Fantastic. I could already see the headlines: The Queen Held the Holy Armor of Dhriti, Praise Be to the Frost Mother.
Ugh.
On Earth, royalty got tabloids. Here, I’d get scripture.
No, thank you.
It was at that moment that Gatei walked in.
“Ah, Queen!” he announced like a man entering karaoke night late and drunk on theology. His grin hit first, and then he kicked the ground.
Silver coins started raining from nowhere, chiming against marble like a polite apocalypse. The moment they touched the ground, they hissed and dissolved into mist.
He caught one mid-fall, inspected it like a sommelier, and popped it into his mouth with a crunch. “Just wanted to stop by,” he said around the metal, “but look at this: the temple’s already blooming! Good initiative. Bit culty. Love the branding.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Gatei.”
He ignored me completely, reaching out and letting another coin drop into his palm. “Be careful, though. Boy’s still sulking.”
“God of War?” I sighed. Because of course it was another god problem. I’d basically ignored everything he wanted.
Gatei nodded solemnly, then immediately undercut it by juggling three coins, catching one in his teeth. “Yeah, him. Don’t worry; told him you didn’t mean it. Also complimented his harem. The whole thing cooled right off.”
He kicked the ground again; another coin spun up, slower this time. “Here,” he said, flicking it toward me. “Try one.”
It hovered in front of me; warm, faintly humming. I caught it. “I’m not eating currency.”
“You already ate worse,” he said cheerfully. “Besides, it’s polite. Divine snack exchange. Builds rapport.”
I sighed, bit the coin.
It melted like sugar, and whiskey had a cursed baby. Burned a little going down, metallic, then strangely cold at the finish. “Weird.”
Gatei grinned. “Pegrium always is. Tastes like burnt prayers.” He popped another into his mouth, crunching happily. “Goes great with stones. Smooths out the aftertaste.”
Lola looked between us, brow furrowed. “Is that… safe?”
Gatei winked. “Oh, speaking of safe, I promised someone I’d fix that.” He straightened, gave a jaunty salute with the hand still holding a half-melted coin, and grinned. “Girls, don’t explode while I’m gone. I’ll fetch the safety.”
Then he laughed and simply walked out of existence, footprints lagging half a second behind like they hadn’t gotten the memo.
I glanced at the custodian; the poor guy looked one divine sneeze away from worshipping me outright. His eyes had the same glassy awe as the priests, like I’d just descended from the patch notes.
Great. Another convert I didn’t sign up for.
He was staring at me the way museum people stare at ancient relics behind glass. Like that fox paw. Maybe gift for Yuki?
Dhriti was the first to rise. For a second, she moved cautiously, as if she were testing if the air would smite her, but when I said nothing, she took that as divine permission and bolted straight for the room.
I sighed, then turned to Lola. She was already checking her clipboard again. I slid an arm around her shoulders, leaning close so only she could hear me.
“Okay, Lola,” I whispered, “what’s the first thing on the agenda before my sanity melts?”

